They had no fucking clue what was coming.
Forty Three
Sierra/Ella
Sierra
“We’ve got enough. Hope they like orange jumpsuits and bad lighting.”
The sharp angles of Dom’s face were shadowed by the dim lighting in the living room. He was massaging my feet, a satisfied glint in his eyes, as a small moan of pleasure escaped my lips.
I nodded. “I’m not getting caught up in all this, though. I wish there was a way to keep our names out of it.” My brows furrowed. “This could destroy both of our career prospects, you do realize that, right?”
“Then we just have to play it smart. There’s nothing really tying us to the case. We just happened to find the evidence.” He shrugged.
“Okay, not to interrupt whatever sexy revenge plot this is,” Ella’s voice rang out from behind us, making us both whip our heads around, “but am I packing snacks or an alibi? Just trying to plan ahead.”
She was standing barefoot in her doorway, drowning in a giant hoodie, one brow arched. I stiffened, not sure how to read her, but Dom just grinned like this was the most fun he’d had all week.
“Depends,” he said. “You want in?”
“Color me intrigued, little bro.” She strolled over to the couch, eyeing us both. “So? What’s going on?”
Dom and I shared a look, then I sighed.
If I was already dragging one Kincaid into this, what was one more?
“Someone’s been siphoning money through my old sorority — donations, event funds, member dues. I caught on. They tried to rope me in, and when I refused, they kicked me out. I’ve been collecting proof ever since.”
Ella’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit. That’s messed up.”
“Yeah,” I exhaled. “I’ve got the evidence. I just don’t want it traced back to me. If this blows up, they’ll go full scorched earth. And I’m not in the mood to get burned.”
Ella was quiet for a beat, then her face lit up with a dangerous grin. “Okay. I might know someone.”
“Ella—” I started, wary.
“Relax,” she said, already pulling out her phone. “I know what I’m doing. Also, you’re basically family now, and we Kincaids look out for our own.”
“We might actually be Johanssons,” Dom said casually. “Still being debated.”
I groaned, glancing between them. “We’renotgetting married.”
Ella snorted. “Told you, you’re screwed. No one out-stubborns my brother.”
Dom held up a finger. “Correction — we’re not getting marriedyet. Totally happening, eventually.”
“You’re impossible,” I muttered, throwing my hands up.
“Yeah, but you still love me,” he said, all smug and shameless.
I blinked. Froze. My mouth went dry.Did he just—?
Ella’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, then grinned. “We’ve got a deal.”
***
Ella
